Changes

Everyday the confusion in my head increases. Confusion that arises in every little detail of what life can bring. I am in the middle of two worlds of pure comfort and liberty. But what is it for me to bear? Everyday is a learning process. Eating pride, loving enemies and forgetting bitterness.

Ever since, I am alone. I can only depend on myself. No one can help me but just myself. It was as clear as the dark room full of tears. Chanting of how childhood is full of pain and hurt. Every night is a salted pillow of sorrow. This the price I pay. I am not a good person. There is no living evidence of it. I even don’t know myself. But this made me grew stronger. Brave in dark alleys of goodbyes and heartaches. I can easily let go in front of many but the agony continues.

It is fear that clothed me every time my eyes open. Each dream is haunted as I wake up. Is there a happiness intended for myself? Made by myself? And Created by myself?

Maybe I rely too much of my happiness to somebody else’s hands. I have to stop this and overcome fear. So maybe, at the end of it all, my children are most important. They can give me strength and maybe they can give love. All I know is they came from my body. I carried them for almost a year, swallowing my own vomit, standing in buses and turning into a much uglier human being. I have sacrificed so much for them. Maybe they are my happiness. Happiness that can be felt as early as their first breathe. And I hope one day I could also be loved. Not because I am their mother but maybe because I didn’t lead them to the dark room I used to sleep along with the pain as my pillow and troubles as my blanket. I hope I am not yet late. Everyday is a different day. I hope tomorrow is a happy one. Someday I know I can…I love you my children! 

First Step

Finally, I've decided to make my own blog mainly because I want something to look back to in times when I'm lost and so to remember things, places and feelings brought by fast chain of events…and maybe because I really like doing this even when I’m still little, writing in a small notebook, sharing a piece of me… =)


Excuse me though I’m not really a fine writer nor am I not good at speaking and writing in English. I can’t even finish an entire book. I get easily bored because there are no pictures or drawings that I can imagine of. Well, maybe I’m not good at imagining things and I pity myself that at age 27, I haven’t read a book from cover to cover and I’m not proud of it. But of course, it’s never too late for anything, so maybe I could try at least one before the year ends. Ironically, I am working in a call center. I never thought that I would be working in this kind of business when as a matter of fact, back at school, I would prefer solving math problems rather than talking English to some sort of essays and book reports. One thing I enjoyed though is reading aloud playing with the tone of my voice like broadcasting a news report or simply narrating a story. This could’ve been the reason I was able to enter the call center grounds.

I am a natural drama queen. I spend time contemplating what-if’s, what-could-have-been, what-could-have-done or simply planning or dreaming big before I go to sleep. So I guess, better write them off so I can track which became reality. This will be a tool of breathing out kept angst so I won’t blow and will serve as a reminder of lessons learned. Hope this may assist me find myself, define who I am, know what I want and see through the beauty of Life….